


5x06: Safety

by nightbirdrises



Series: S5 Reaction Drabbles [6]
Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, M/M, Reaction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbirdrises/pseuds/nightbirdrises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt wonders if he’s done the right thing in encouraging NYADA and a future in performing for Blaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5x06: Safety

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: [[x]](http://princehummel.tumblr.com/post/67732673323)

Watching Blaine attempt to field Santana’s up-front and occasionally crude questions while she helps him with his makeup is almost entertaining enough to distract him. “Almost” isn’t quite enough, though.

"Stop fidgeting or I may literally make your eye pop with this," Santana warns, shaking the eyeliner pencil in Blaine’s face.

"Sorry," Blaine says sheepishly. He takes a deep breath and glances at Kurt.

"And stop doing that," Santana adds with a sigh.

"Doing what?"

"Smiling at your fiancé like the sun shines out of his ass," she says, her hand returning to Blaine’s chin to hold him still. "Maybe it does, I guess you’d be the one to know, but your smile makes your eyes impossible for me to work with, so work with me here and quit being so damn happy."

It takes a second but Blaine does manage to school his expression into something more neutral and less squinty. Kurt shakes his head fondly at the two of them as he takes a seat on Santana’s bed, pulling out his phone to browse the latest news. He vaguely hears his roommate telling Blaine all about Elliott a.k.a. Starchild and the magic of eyeliner in that particular instance — he’s sure that Blaine’s listening intently despite the fact that Kurt has already told him everything about it.

Kurt’s mind starts to wander, and not in any good direction. He’s sure that Blaine’s talk of wanting to be a doctor is just a cover for his uncertainty, but what if Kurt’s pushing too hard? It’s no secret that what he wants for himself and Blaine are careers in performing (and, for Kurt, fashion as a side project) but what if he’s being selfish about it?

He dreams, sometimes, of sharing a stage with Blaine, a hushed crowd of people that paid through the nose for the chance to see them sitting in awe of their talent. Sometimes, especially after rehearsal with Pamela Lansbury, he dreams of more rambunctious crowds in small, tastefully-decorated venues singing along as he and Blaine perform an encore of Let It Snow for the Christmas season. He also dreams of social networking websites going crazy for them the way that they do for, say, Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka, cheering them on and supporting them and possibly even getting a little bit creepy in their praise. On a simpler level, he dreams of being NYADA’s power pair, nailing any and all duet assignments whether they be in dance or voice.

Kurt wants all of that and more, so what if his drive to push Blaine into auditioning and pursuing that kind of career is just him being too much of a dreamer? Blaine could very well want something else, even if it’s not actually a medical career like he’d weakly suggested. Music therapy is something that he could be interested in, for instance.

The brief image of Blaine giving cheerful piano lessons to a child in long-term care makes him smile to himself — Blaine would be perfect for something like that, if he so chose to head in that direction.

"No!" Kurt snaps his head up to see Santana bearing down on Blaine with a pair of tweezers. "Please don’t, Santana, my eyebrows are fine."

"Relax, I’m not going to pluck your weirdly triangular face caterpillars off your head entirely. Trust me."

"I don’t know if I should…"

"But you will because I’m not letting you go until I am finished."

"This isn’t even technically _makeup_ —” Santana shushes him and Blaine’s mouth shuts tight, lips thin as he braces himself. Kurt laughs, and Blaine looks at him pleadingly.

"Oh, no, I’m not gonna help you out of this," Kurt tells him. "You have an audition to rock, and as much as I question Santana’s methods—" Santana mutters something (mostly likely an insult) in Spanish, but Kurt ignores her. "—she does know her way around cosmetics."

"Fine," Blaine huffs, and he remains quiet until Santana is finished.

"You’re welcome," she says before either of them can say anything; a moment later, she’s shooing them out of her room. "Go break a leg or whatever, I need to cleanse my room of eau de gay."

"We can thank her later," Kurt says when Blaine shows signs of wanting to go back and actually say it. "Right now you have an audition to get to."

 

* * *

 

Kurt doesn’t get to watch Blaine’s audition, to his utter irritation — Carmen explicitly asks him to wait outside; it’s a new policy or something. Kurt thinks that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard, but he can ask Blaine for a quick reprise when they get home. Well, Kurt’s home. Which will someday be Blaine’s home, too, until they both have a home that is entirely their own and no one else’s.

He attempts to listen through the door, but the small auditorium refuses to give up its secrets that way, so he gives up and resigns himself to playing with his phone until Blaine’s done. This is almost more nerve-wracking than watching, he thinks; without having a single clue as to how well Blaine’s audition is going, he’s blind to how he’ll find his fiancé in a few minutes when he’s allowed to meet him backstage. 

As much as he knows that he’ll provide Blaine with a safe space if things go badly, he also knows that Blaine will inevitably be devastated in that situation. Kurt hopes, dearly, that it turns out okay. He can always use Rachel as an example of an audition turnaround, but still.

Carmen nearly crushes him into the wall with the door when she opens it; he apologizes for being in the way and she just gives him a look. It doesn’t seem like a bad look or a good look, it’s just a  _look_. He’s probably reading into this way too deeply.

"May I… ?" he asks tentatively, just barely keeping from bouncing on the balls of his feet. Carmen nods.

"I’m sure he has plenty to share," she says, and then she’s walking off, down the hall to who-knows-where. Kurt doesn’t give himself a second to wonder; he rushes into the room and towards the stage, where a microphone stand still sits. He climbs the steps and is about to head backstage when he hears rapid footsteps. The next thing he knows, he’s being pulled into a nearly bone-crushing but still familiar hug.

"Oh, hey, how’d it go?" Kurt asks, thinking he knows the answer but not wanting to assume.

"I think it went really, really well." Blaine backs off, grinning like he never wants to stop. "Carmen told me that she was impressed. Although…" Blaine’s expression drops. "That’s pretty much what she told you, too, that first time."

"Hey, no." Kurt, on a whim, takes Blaine’s hand and holds it to his heart. Blaine understands almost instantly, a small smile returning. "You did everything you could, now it’s just a matter of waiting, okay?"

"The worst part," Blaine mumbles, his fingers squeezing around Kurt’s.

"You’re right, waiting sucks. But I don’t want you to worry yourself over this in the meantime. I know I’m being hypocritical,  _me_  telling you not to worry—” Blaine chuckles, about to say something, but Kurt keeps going. “—but I’m not kidding when I say I will do everything I can to distract you and keep you from stressing out.”

"And if I don’t get in?"

Kurt shrugs. “Then you don’t get in, and you find another road to take, and I’ll love you just as much.” He drops their hands but keeps them clasped and swinging between them. “Even if that new road doesn’t end up in performing, I’ll still be behind you all the way as long as it’s what you  _want_  to do, not what you’re just settling for.”

Blaine stares at their hands for a moment. “I want to perform. I don’t know if I’d rather do stage stuff or be a musical artist or anything, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure I want to do something like that.”

"What’s that last one percent?"

"I don’t know. Going for a career in the arts is just risky, you know? There’s no telling whether it’ll work out. I guess that one percent is just me being scared."

"Doesn’t seem like you’re as scared as you were earlier today, though," Kurt says, smiling at him. "What changed?"

"I performed," Blaine says simply. He looks back up at Kurt, then around at the stage. "It kind of reminded me how much I love being up here. Which is, you know, a lot. Almost as much as I love you."

"Mm, I suppose that  _is_  a lot.” Blaine nods fervently and steps in to kiss Kurt; Kurt’s arms drape over his shoulders out of pure reflex as he kisses back.

So Blaine  _does_  love performing and really wants to do it. That reassures Kurt, not that he ever should have had a doubt about where Blaine’s love lies in the first place. And, you know, maybe it’s not such a selfish thing to want to succeed together, picking each other up when they stumble or fall and pushing each other forward when the opportunity arrives. Blaine’s capable of telling Kurt if he’s pushing too hard or in a questionable direction, and vice versa.

"So," Blaine starts once they’ve parted, his lips still close enough to brush Kurt’s as he speaks, "you said something about distracting me?"

"I did."

"Care to distract me back at your place? No one will be home until later."

"You’re totally gonna take advantage of this distraction thing, aren’t you?" Blaine’s hands tighten at his hips.

"Well, yes. I can’t possibly be stressed if I’m messing around with you."

Kurt smirks, tilting his head to sneak in a quick peck to Blaine’s lips before saying, “We’d better mess around as often as possible, then, so that you don’t even have the time to worry.”

"Works for me. Let’s go home."

"Home?" Kurt wonders out loud. Blaine’s gaze softens.

"Am I not home when I’m here with you?"

"Oh, well— I guess so, yeah," Kurt stammers, taken by pleasant surprise. "New York feels more like home to me, too, when you’re around."

"I’m glad," Blaine says as they finally step outside, the city loud in their ears. "You know what would make the loft even more like home, though?"

"What?"

"A piano."

Kurt laughs, a little incredulous. “Tell you what, if you can manage to get a piano up those stairs and into our place, we’ll keep it.”

"Noted."


End file.
